Chit Chat
by Myka
Summary: PostGluhen. Yohji meets a redhead that keeps rousing his memory.


Chit Chat

by Myka

A/N-Summary: Post-Gluhen. Yohji meets a redhead that keeps rousing his memory.

beta: naaha

* * *

He felt like he knew him, or that at least that he should have. But he didn't. He didn't know him.

The man was sitting two or three feet to the side of him at a medium sized wooden round table. He had appeared out of nowhere, taken the empty seat, ordered himself a drink and tried to start a conversation. There had been no pleasantries, no introductions, as if they weren't needed.

Yohji stared down at his drink. How many had he had so far? He didn't remember. Not enough to be drunk. Pity.

The man kept talking to him, asking him silly pointless questions. Yohji enjoyed the company, the silly chit chat. It was better than going back to an empty apartment. That's why he was there trying to get wasted.

Asuka was gone. The divorce had been finalized, not even couples therapy had helped. In the end it just hadn't worked out.

"So she left you, get over it."

Yohji looked up from his drink and blinked at the man before him. He didn't remember saying anything about Asuka, at least not aloud.

"It wasn't like that," he replied quite firmly. "We just drifted apart…" Yohji raised his glass up, staring at the transparent liquid. "Too many ghosts in my past, she used to say…" He brought the glass to his lips and drank.

The man appeared to roll his eyes, but avoided commenting. "Want another one?" he offered as he pointed towards Yohji's now empty mug.

Yohji gazed briefly at the man. "Are you paying for it?"

The man smirked. "Sure, why not?"

"Then keep them coming," Yohji answered brazenly.

The man leaned back in his chair and released a strong hoarse laugh. Then he raised his hand and called the waiter. Their mugs were soon full again and the man leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and clasping his hands together, his lips a thin smirk.

Yohji tilted his head a bit to the side. For a while he found himself staring at the man's eyes, his mouth, his entire face. The feeling came again, the sense of familiarity, but along with it came another somewhat stronger feeling. One of caution, that this man was more than what he saw before him. Deep blue eyes, bright red hair, definitely foreign.

"I think I am more drunk than I thought," Yohji commented, more to himself than to the man.

The foreigner tilted his head in a manner similar to Yohji's. "Oh, really…why would you say that?"

"I keep getting this feeling that I know you."

"Really?" replied the man sounding quite surprised.

"Must be the beer," Yohji answered calmly. "It's about time that it worked."

The man laughed again and Yohji couldn't help but chuckle at the pleasant sound. The moment erased the last of the wariness between them. Their mugs were kept full, people came and went, and invitations were turned down without hesitation.

Yohji noticed that the man smirked a lot, so he started lines of conversation just to make the man smirk. The place buzzed with life around them, so much so that they almost had to yell to hear one another, so it became very natural to sit very close so that they wouldn't have to raise their voices.

Whenever the man smiled, Yohji couldn't help but smile back. The way he laughed and the way he leaned over and whispered something, it was more than mere casualness. He just didn't dare ask…

"What is your viewpoint on men?" the man suddenly said, leaning even closer now and making the conversation strictly between them.

Yohji eyebrows rose slightly. "Men?"

"Well, you were married weren't you?"

"Yes,"

"So men are completely out for you? Or have you ever wondered?" Yohji remained speechless, trying to think of the appropriate thing to say. "Do you find me unattractive?" the man asked quickly.

"No, not particularly." Yohji shook his head.

The man's smirk was back and he rose from his chair and started walking away, but not before signaling Yohji to follow him. They ended in a deserted hall, one that led to the establishment's restrooms. The man turned and whispered in Yohji's ear. "And if I said I wanted more than just the chit chat?"

Yohji felt a pleasurable shiver up his spine. "I don't even know your…"

"Schuldig."

"Schu…" Yohji had started to repeat the name, but his words were cut short when Schuldig leaned forward suddenly and pressed his lips against his own. He was only the second person Yohji had kissed. While Asuka's kisses had been sweet (almost bittersweet sometimes) and tender, Schuldig's kiss was deeper, needier, so very different. They both gasped for air whenever they had the chance, and soon hands came to play: Schuldig's on the back of Yohji's neck as if pulling him forward, wanting more and more, and Yohji's on Schuldig's hips since frankly he didn't know where else to put them. There was something strangely familiar about it, the desperation of it. Yohji fumbled with the borders of Schuldig's shirt, pulling it, his fingertips finally touching bare skin. With one last gasp the kiss was broken, and immediately Yohji was staring at Schuldig's blue eyes that didn't seem to blink. He could feel Schuldig's fingers gently passing through his hair.

"Your hair has grown back," murmured Schuldig.

"What?"

Schuldig didn't seem to hear him. "Want to get out of here?"

Yohji pressed his thumb across Schuldig's lips. The feeling that he knew this man was still there or at least that he should have known him. But he didn't. He didn't know him.

"Your place or mine?"


End file.
